Jonoju Fishing
by JediMasterJaina
Summary: Han takes his son-in-law Jag on a fishing trip. Hilarity ensues!


Jonoju Fishing

**Jonoju Fishing**

Jag grimaced as he stepped off the _Falcon_. He didn't know where he was, but from the looks of the place, it was none too inviting. He itched the collar of the ridiculous vest, which was accompanied by an equally ridiculous hat, which Han had made him wear.

_I don't know why I let him talk me into this…_

He turned around in time to see his father-in-law, Han Solo and Han's protocol droid, C3PO, lumbering down the _Falcon's_ access ramp, both overloaded with funny looking gear.

"Sit it down over here, Threepio." Han said as he unloaded his arms.

"Anything I can do to help, sir?"

Han turned and looked at Jag, flashing him a lopsided grin. "Yeah. You can stay out here and keep Threepio company while I get the rest of the stuff. Oh, and don't call me 'sir'. It's 'Han' or 'Captain', got it kid?"

Jag nodded, "Yes, sir-I mean, Han."

Han rolled his eyes and headed back into the _Falcon_, leaving Jag alone with Threepio.

"Why, by the Maker!" the droid exclaimed. "Do my optical sensors deceive me?"

"What? What is it?"

"It's Bespin!" Threepio whailed.

"Bespin? Who's Bespin?"

Threepio started to answer but was cut off by the sound of Han's laughter coming from the ramp. "Bespin isn't a person, it's a planet and you're standing on it."

"So why it Threepio worried about Bespin?"

The droid piped up. "The last time Captain Solo was on Bespin, he was frozen in carbonite, Master Luke lost his hand to Darth Vader and I was disassembled!"

Jag paled and swallowed. Hard. "Why exactly are we here then?" _Oh please don't let it be to put me in carbonite, oh please, oh please, oh please…_

Han flashed Jag another Solo grin and patted him on the shoulder. "Because it's the best place in the galaxy to go jonoju fishing!"

"Jonoju fishing? What's that?"

"I'll tell you on the way to the best jonoju fishing vent on Bespin. Here you go, kid," Han said, shoving gear into Jag's arms. "Threepio, you stay with the ship." He turned to Jag. "You try to keep up, got it kid?"

The duo walked for hours, all the while Han singing the same annoyingly jaunty song over and over again. Jag was sick of it. Even all his training at the Chiss academy hadn't prepared him in dealing with the insufferable song.

"Well, we ain't got a barrel of money, we may look ragged and funny…" Han started for the one hundred and seventy-third time since they had left the _Falcon_. Jag exhaled sharply, his arms tiring from carrying the awkward gear and his nerves reaching their breaking point.

_If I have to hear that song one more time…._

Han simply continued.

"Through all kinds of weather, what if the sky should fall?"

"Sir?" Jag asked, wearily. "Sir? Are we there yet?"

Han sang even louder.

"So we ain't got a barrel of money  
We may look ragged and funny  
But we're travelin' on  
Singing our song  
Side by side…"

Jag grimaced again. He has been told there were certain people who should never sing. He'd discovered one of them today. The duo trudged along, Han finally ceasing his aural torture of Jag. For that, he was thankful. Listening to Han singing made Imperial interrogations look appealing. After a while of silence, Jag spoke up.

"What exactly is jonoju fishing?"

"Well, kid, jonojus are one of the galaxy's weirdest beings. A jonoju looks like a cross between a bird and a rather large fish. They're found all over the place. Not many people call 'em 'jonojus' though. Most call 'em 'snipes'. Anyway, the only way to catch a jonoju is to find a vent that's been deserted for a while and stand over it with the poles. Then we bait the hooks on the poles with krakana guts. That's the only thing that attracts jonojus. You have to stand there for a while with the poles. Jonojus are hard to catch."

"What exactly is the point of this, Captain?"

"Well, kid, jonojus are quite possibly the most delicious thing on the planet, next to ryshcate. Get yourself a jonoju, soak it in a little Lomin Ale, add some chabroot, get some Lomin Ale to drink and BAM! You've got yourself a meal fit for royalty."

Jag stopped in his tracks and stared at the older man. "Anything else I should know?"

Han grinned. "Oh yeah! The only was to attract jonojus is, when you're standing over the vent, to say, ' Woebegone, woebegone, jonoju forge and fly!' three times while drinking Lomin Ale. Then you have to sing the song I've been singing until you feel a tug on your line."

"You've got to be kidding me…" Jag groaned.

**Three hours later….**

Jag swayed in his place, feeling quite inebriated. He was on his sixth straight mug of Lomin Ale and he still hadn't caught a kriffin' thing!

"Woebegone, woebegone, jonoju forge and fly!" he slurred while turning about in a circle three times, as per Han's instructions. Despite feeling a little sick, he was actually having a good time.

"Well, we ain't got a barrel of money  
We may look ragged and funny  
But we're travelin' on  
Singing our song  
Side by side…"

Jag continued to slur out the song as Han stood beside him, not nearly as drunk as the younger man, seizing his sides in a fit of laughing. Jag stopped singing.

"Whatso funny?" he asked.

"You," the elder Solo said simply.

"Whysat?"

Han clutched his sides and began laughing again. Through his fits of giggles, Jag barely made out what he was saying.

"Because there's no such thing as jonojus!!"


End file.
